


here in the glow of the night

by ohvictor



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Canon Compliant, Choking, In a manner of speaking, Masturbation, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kurapika, Other, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 06:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3370514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohvictor/pseuds/ohvictor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting nostalgic in the heat of this is playing with fire, but it’s times like these when they miss Leorio’s hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	here in the glow of the night

**Author's Note:**

> That unconventional phone sex fic you always wanted, probably. Based on a headcanon I had and then decided I wanted to flesh out. I didn't warn for underage because I wrote this to be set somewhere during the chimera ant arc, which would make Kurapika 18, but steer clear if that would be uncomfy for you anyway! Title is from Domino by Genesis (I'm sorry, Genesis). I'm also sorry to Leorio. Kurapika is afab nonbinary and uses they/them pronouns in this fic.

Kurapika always wonders whether Melody keeps track of the other bodyguards, listening for their heartbeats through the walls of the mansion, straining her ears every so often to catch the ones that are further away. All the Nostrade bodyguards have something to hide, but not all of them are opposed to building friendships because of their baggage like Kurapika is, and Melody is certainly caring enough to reach out to the rest as much as she’s been kind enough to reach out to Kurapika. By that token, whether or not Melody checks on the others, she probably does check on Kurapika, listening for their heartbeat, making sure they’re doing all right.

In any case, Kurapika dearly hopes she isn’t checking in on them now, because the frantic pace of their heartbeat can mean only one thing. And, really, it’s telling about Kurapika’s inability to maintain any kind of seductive air that Kurapika is calmly thinking about Melody’s habits while jerking themself off.

They’re spread out on their bed, the lights off and blankets tossed away to puddle at their feet, hand at work between their legs, chains employed elsewhere. Kurapika has always been good at staying quiet so it’s not strictly necessary to stifle themself, but they do it anyway, for other reasons. It makes Kurapika think back to Mizuken, asking if it’s really Kurapika who’s chained up. The thought makes Kurapika’s skin prickle with the same combination of anger and self-deprecation that they had felt at the time, and they flick their wrist, curling the chain wrapped loose around their neck the slightest bit tighter, enough that they gasp and arch as the cold metal mimics the kiss of a lover Kurapika will not allow themself to have.

Another jerk at their chains and they’re nearly crying out, squirming and lifting their hips into their own touch. But it’s not good enough, and after a moment Kurapika removes the chains from their neck, focusing all their efforts on their masturbation. Kurapika’s hands are unskilled at this, and their movements are still clumsy from years of not bothering to explore their sexuality. They’re so wet it’s soaking into the sheets underneath them, but the motion of their fingers on their clit is not enough. The fingers they’re thrusting into themself are not enough.

Getting nostalgic in the heat of this is playing with fire, but it’s times like these when they miss Leorio’s hands.

They do, though. Every time they get themself off, and plenty of other times, often when it’s most inconvenient. Leorio’s big doctor’s hands. He could have his thumb on Kurapika’s clit and two fingers inside Kurapika, hitting all the right spots effortlessly, panting into kisses as Kurapika arched and moaned underneath him. “You like that?” he’d say, breathless. Like he didn’t know. “Am I doing okay?” Like Leorio didn’t know all the right spots to coax noise out of Kurapika.

Kurapika wishes they had Leorio’s hands. Not all of Leorio, because that would complicate things. They push that idea away before they can consider it further, pruning the tiny blossom of hope that blooms at the thought of Leorio. No, they will think about Leorio’s hands only, holding Kurapika down, choking them with something warmer and tighter than chains, Leorio groaning and sweating above Kurapika, grinding down onto them through layers of pants and underwear the way they had before, wary of insemination and so choosing to ruin several pairs of underwear just to get off pressed against each other--

The fantasy has grown beyond what Kurapika had initially entertained, and Kurapika should stop it, but it’s too good, it feels too good. In the darkness it’s easy to visualize Leorio above them, hot breath beating down Kurapika’s neck and shoulder as Leorio pants and works his hand inside them. Kurapika imagines spreading their legs easily and curling them around Leorio, tugging him closer, trapping him, the heat building between their bodies until it’s nearly unbearable and the movement of Leorio’s hand is restricted by their proximity, but Kurapika doesn’t care.

It’s maddening, to remember such pleasure and be unable to replicate it. Kurapika is good at copying others’ motions once they’ve seen them, but they were always too...compromised whenever Leorio was doing this one in particular, and at any rate, their hands are too small. They don’t know where to find the spot inside them that Leorio had found and teased so easily; they don’t know if they could even reach it comfortably. Their movements on their clit are too slow, rhythmic but not enough to satisfy them. They need something more.

As if on cue, their phone starts buzzing on the bedside table.

It’s sentiment, again, having their phone so close by even though Kurapika barely answers calls from their friends. It’s also practicality, because their phone is their alarm clock. But right now, Kurapika knows there’s only one person who would call them late at night, when the mansion is quiet like this, and Kurapika knows they can’t pick up now. They couldn’t take advantage of Leorio’s caring by getting off to his voice. And they certainly couldn’t stop now just to talk to him. They should just ignore the call. Let the phone keep ringing.

Kurapika stares at the vibrating phone for another moment, and then grabs it and shoves it between their legs.

What Leorio doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And the vibrations against Kurapika’s clit feel incredible. They roll their hips down experimentally onto the cold metal, and ease out a groan at the feeling. The dirtiness of their arousal soaking onto their phone, the horror of the situation, using Leorio’s kindness like this, makes Kurapika’s gut tighten and squirm, and unfortunately it is absolutely the feeling Kurapika needed to get just close enough to finish themself off.

They grind desperately down onto their phone, rubbing it up and down against their clit, half-shoving it up against themself to fuck themself against one corner of it. They think of the wetness seeping into the charger port, the screen of the phone blurred and dripping, the way the phone rocks and buzzes against their clit, all those nerve endings finally being satisfied with something other than the bland friction of fingertips, and pleasure courses through Kurapika, a slow burn that hangs low between their legs before spreading in waves as their orgasm surges through them. The phone goes still in Kurapika’s hand as the last few tremors of orgasm fade, leaving only a haze of overstimulation.

Kurapika hangs suspended for a few moments, during which they refuse to consider what they have just done, which grows increasingly more difficult as the time passes. Then, finally, they lift their phone up and grimace at the drying gunk on the screen. Maybe it had been sexy in the heat of the moment, but it’s inconvenient now. “2 Missed Calls from: Leorio Paladiknight”, reads the screen. Kurapika was right about the caller, and it’s almost sad. It is sad.

They owe him, now. They wipe their phone on the sheets and then send Leorio a quick text. “ _Busy, can’t talk. Hope everything is okay_.” It’s more than they usually send, and hopefully Leorio doesn’t pry at their sudden willingness to respond.

Kurapika rises and goes to the bathroom to clean up, and returns to find a response. They curl up in bed, waiting for their breathing to even out before opening the message. “ _Everything’s fine. Just was thinking about you_.”

It’s a punch in the gut, and Kurapika finally feels the guilt they’ve been rationalizing away all night. They set their phone on the bedside table, and close their eyes. They won’t let themself send a text back. One is already too much.

_Me too, Leorio. I was thinking about you, too._


End file.
